The Prodigal Prince's Seduction (Castaldini Crown 2)

Then she was out of nongarment things. He wasn’t. The man was a magician. He had to be pulling all that stuff out of thin air. Her shoes went, then her jacket. When it was her blouse’s turn, he moved closer. He took one step forward and something new off for each button she undid. Then all the buttons were undone and he was a breath away. The blouse hung open, still revealing nothing. She quivered. “Your turn.”

“It’s still your turn. With the last button, it comes off.”

Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she pushed her blouse off. Then she was in her skirt and bra, unable to look at him, afraid to document his reaction, cringing inside.

What if he thought her breasts too big? Ed had said they were grotesque, unbalanced for her body. What if he preferred slimmer women? Different proportions? What if…?

A shockwave swept through her. Her eyes flew to his face.

She might have been alarmed at the eruption of testosterone blasting off him, the carnal ferocity in his features, if it hadn’t gratified her, aroused her to the point of near-frenzy.

He tore off his jacket, muscles rippling, his whole body expanding. Then he hissed, “Next.”

She expended the remnants of her coordination undoing her skirt.

Durante’s nostrils flared, his gaze pouring heat over her, his chest rising and falling as if with exertion. He flicked open the first button of his shirt, hissed again, “Next.”

She fumbled her bra open, instinctively held it in place.

“Let it drop, bellissima.”

She did, whimpered. With the relief of releasing her swollen breasts from the imprisonment of the bra that had grown stifling. His jaw muscles worked as he undid another button then dropped to his knees, hands spanning her hips in a girdle of fire, his fingers hooking into her panties. “And last.”

By the time the torturous sweep of lace and steel fingers skimmed her toes, she was panting. His hands reversed their path, inflaming her flesh with raw need. Then they stilled, an inch from her core.

He raised eyes like incendiary precious stones. “Divina, preciosa mia…divina.”

He bent his awesome head to her flesh, suckled and nibbled her thighs and abdomen, moving higher like a starving man who didn’t know where to start his feast. Her fingers convulsed in the wealth of his silky hair, pressed his face to her flesh in an ecstasy of torment, unable to take the stimulation, unable to get enough.

He took her breasts in hands that trembled, pressed them, weighed them, kneaded and nuzzled them as if they were the most amazing things he’d ever felt. Tears broke through her fugue of arousal. “You said fast and ferocious…please…”

“There’s been a change in plan. The first two times will be torturously slow. We’ll get to fast and ferocious the third time. Or maybe the fourth. Definitely the fifth.”

She watched his head move against her breasts, heard her pleas thicken as his tongue and teeth turned the flesh she’d always thought sensitive to discomfort or pain into an instrument of unbearable pleasure. He tasted and nipped and murmured wonder and hunger, circled the center of her distress. If it wasn’t for the ocean air cooling as the sun disappeared, she might have spontaneously combusted. Then his hands moved away and his tongue and teeth strayed over her…

This was nothing like she’d expected or imagined. Every squeeze had the exact force, each rub and nip and dig the exact roughness to extract maximum pleasure from her every nerve ending. He layered sensations with each press and bite, until she felt devoured, until she was overloading. Something was burning inside her. She undulated against him feverishly, pressing her clamoring flesh against any part of him in mindless pursuit of assuagement. Only then did he drag a rough, electrocuting hand between her thighs, teasing and tormenting his way to her core. The heel of his thumb found her outer lips at the same moment the damp furnace of his mouth clamped over a throbbing nipple. Sensation slashed her nerves.

He supported her collapsing weight, carried her to rest against the railing where they’d stood that night, one knee beneath her buttock, one between her thighs.

“I wanted to do this to you that first night…” He slid two fingers between her molten inner lips, stilled at her entrance. “I wanted to see you like this, on fire, open, hunger shaking you apart. Then I wanted to do this…”

He again dropped to his knees, spread her legs, placed one after the other over his shoulders, opening her to his eyes and touch. He inhaled her, rumbled like a lion maddened at the scent of his female in heat, then blew a gust of acute sensation over her quivering flesh. Her hips bucked, her last “please” morphing into a squeal. It became a shriek when he pumped two fingers into her, in a slow, slow glide. The sunset turned into darkest night as she convulsed, pleasure slamming through her in desperate surges.

Her sight burst back to an image from a fantasy. Him, clothed, kneeling between her legs, her, naked, splayed open over his shoulders, in the midst of an ocean that did feel as if it were their own.

Then, among the mass of aftershocks she’d become, she felt it. His fingers still filling her, pumping her, beckoning inside her.

Her gasping mouth widened as his tongue joined in, licked from where his fingers were buried inside her upward, circling her bud until she heard her voice sobbing pleas again. His lips locked on her core. She bucked, pressed her burning flesh to his mouth, opening herself fully to his double sensual assault, bewilderment shooting through her as each glide and graze and pull and thrust sent hotter lances skewering through her, as if she hadn’t just had the most intense orgasm of her life. And before she could draw a full breath, she was in the throes again, quaking and screaming with an even more violent release.

She tumbled from the explosive peak, drained, sated. Stupefied. What had just happened?

Her drugged eyes sought his, as if for answers. Even in the twilight they glowed azure, heavy with hunger and satisfaction.

“You are the most magnificent thing I have ever touched or tasted. I will never get enough of you.”

Suddenly she was hungrier, the emptiness where she needed him gnawing at her. She writhed, her hands running over his lush hair. “Can we skip to fast and ferocious now…please?”

He chuckled against her inner thighs, cupping her, desensitizing her. “But those two times don’t count. The ones I promised will be with me inside you, riding you to ecstasy.”

Her mouth dropped open.

Before she could respond, he swept her up in his arms, headed inside the yacht, taking a route she hadn’t seen before.